


Little Boy Lost

by Durrant



Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, Dubious Medical Procedures, Forced Bonding, M/M, Nudity in Front of an Underage Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Durrant/pseuds/Durrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The American would be an omega. Hannibal could smell it on him already. He was only six but the scent of his latent fecundity was there for anyone who cared to notice. No-one noticed. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The boy was so young and desperate for affection. The other boys mostly ignored him; he had no Lithuanian and no-one would bother to learn English for him. Instead, he was shouted out in increasingly loud and angry tones until the boy correctly guessed what was expected of him. They didn’t sleep in the same dormitory, but Hannibal had seen the bruises on the boy’s body; he was not a defender of the young and innocent any more, that part of his life had been ripped away from him. The young American’s troubles were none of his concern. 

The American would be an omega. Hannibal could smell it on him already. He was only six but the scent of his latent fecundity was there for anyone who cared to notice. No-one noticed. 

The omegas were kept in a separate wing and not allowed to mix with the alphas and betas. Their windows were screwed shut and stopped up with cloth, so that the teenage alphas couldn’t smell them and go mad with lust. The betas who ran the orphanage grumbled about the extra responsibilities that come with looking after so many omegas; the effort they had to go to tying them down when they were in heat; how careful they must be with the omega’s fragile bones when they beat them. And yet, in return, the orphanage would not be paid a bride price when the omegas are claimed by their alphas. The omegas who grew up in this orphanage would be thrown outside the gate when they turn eighteen and be claimed for free by the first alpha to wander past.

When the American presented, in a few years time, he would be thrown in that wing and not allowed outside again. Not until he was placed outside the gates, like so much rubbish. Hannibal didn’t care; it was unfortunate that the boy’s life was already mapped out but it was not his concern. It was just another example of the barbarity of mankind. 

Nonetheless, it was still pleasant to sniff the American. The scent was very faint and Hannibal had to be close to him in order to smell it. The boy had taken to him, searching him out when the other boys bullying became too much. Hannibal did nothing to protect the American, but the younger boys were too scared of him to stay in his presence long. The American was scared of him too, but not enough to stay away and take a beating. The boy risked the unknown silence of Hannibal against the certainty of the younger boys fists; it was curious but Hannibal had other things to occupy his mind. His family home was being plundered and he had bullies of his own to contend with.

The American didn’t talk much, there wasn’t much point. Of course, Hannibal remembered his English lessons and he understood the few things that the boy tried to tell him. Maybe not everything that the boy said, but he understood that the American was not an orphan; that he had been abandoned by his father. He knew the boy’s name was William. 

Today, he had snuck out and hidden himself in the woods. Hannibal knew he would not be missed for hours, perhaps not even until tomorrow, depending on whose duty it was to check the beds tonight, and how drunk the man was. 

He could feel his Rut approaching. It would be his second, and he already loathed it.

There were so many advantages to being an alpha; the little betas were so easily cowed by him, it only took a glance. But, in return, he had to pay a price. Every three months he would lose control of himself, his sanity slipping away as he felt a violent need for something. He needed to bite and thrust and grind and he wanted so much. When he got older he would have an omega, and the medical books said it would make his Rut easier. His omega’s blood would sooth him, let him keep his sanity and cool the fires of his desire. 

Hannibal supposed it would be worth it. He hated the idea of sharing his life again, of having someone who depended on him, but he would rather that than live like some mindless animal.

He’d found a small clearing, isolated and perfect, where he could pass his Rut without the interference of anyone from the orphanage. He did not want to be shut up in a cell in the cellar again. Lying down on the grass, gazing at the sky, as he slowly fisted his cock, was far better. It was still early yet and his hand felt good, rather than the almost painful desperation that would come later as his biology betrayed him, driving him to do whatever was necessary to claim and impregnate.

A faint scent wafted through the clearing and Hannibal knew he was no longer alone. He jumped to his feet, making no move to hide his nakedness but ready for any attack. He took a deep breath through his nose and recognised the scent. It was little William, come to find him to escape from his bullies. This time it would have been better if the boy had stayed in the orphanage and let the other boys beat him. 

A twig snapped and Hannibal knew exactly where the little boy was. He relaxed his stance and watched the large tree that William was hiding behind. A small head peered round the trunk, a mop of dark hair sat on his head. The child was far too innocent, he didn’t even understand the danger of following an alpha in their Rut. Hannibal beckoned him forward with a blunt finger. 

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do to the boy. He could do anything. 

Even now, the boy had no sense of self-preservation. Wide, blue eyes stared up at Hannibal. The child’s eyes reminded him too much of Mischa, and her blind trust that her brother would make everything better. Hannibal’s cock bobbed close to the child’s face. 

Hannibal got to his knees and looked the child in the eyes. 

“Why are you nay beard?” William asked, his face curious. Hannibal cocked his head and thought about the question. His English was too limited to understand anything beyond the fact that William had no idea of the danger he was in. 

“I fight tria dol but you wy doo l’hungry?” William asked shyly. The boy reached into his pocket and brought out two biscuits, offering them to Hannibal on a flattened palm. He stared down at the boy’s small hand. With his wrist exposed, Hannibal could smell that trace of latent omega more strongly than ever. 

He took the two, dry biscuits and put them on the grass.

“You don’t like fiz gou?” William looked down at the biscuits with a frown, “I she tokem pour you.”

William seemed sad that he hadn’t eaten the proffered food. Hannibal almost smiled at the child’s simplicity. Instead, he started to undo the buttons of William’s orphanage issued shirt. The metal buttons slipped out easily and, although William stiffened slightly, he still had no suspicions of what Hannibal was about to do. 

The cheap, scratchy shirt was quickly undone, and William made no protest as Hannibal pushed it from his shoulders. The boy was as thin as everyone else that lived in the orphanage. His pale flesh was littered with bruises, some dark and only a few days old, some yellow smudges that were all that remained of last weeks beatings. 

The scent of omega was even stronger now. Stronger than Hannibal could ever remember, although he knew he must have smelled stronger omega scents before. After all, his mother had been an omega. 

His stillness had finally alarmed William. The little boy shivered despite the sunshine. 

“Whaz rog? Is chute be nef? Hannibol?” William’s face twisted in concern. It was amazing that, even so many years before he would present as an omega, William was exhibiting all the caring tendencies that omega were renowned for.

With the child in front of him, Hannibal’s sexual desire had died, but the need to own and to bite and to conquer remained as strong as ever. Moving as fast as a snake, he struck. He buried his face in William’s neck and bit down. His teeth burst through skin and blood vessels and, finally, the small, underdeveloped bonding gland that lay buried and dormant. It tasted delicious, sweet and innocent and purer than anything he’d eaten in years. After years of orphanage rations, this was perfection. He gulped back the blood and the sweet nectar that had been inside the bonding gland. 

He pulled back and realised that William was screaming at him. Small fists were beating ineffectually at his chest and shoulders. He released the child, but the boy couldn’t stand on his own two feet and William collapsed on to the grass. Hannibal didn’t help him up. He had done what he wanted. He had claimed an omega, albeit a juvenile one, and his Rut was already calming. 

Hannibal dressed slowly as William continued to sob into the ground. His hands still trembled slightly with the hormones that had flooded his system, but his cock was soft. He’d thought before about leaving the orphanage, he’d already realised that there was nothing left for him there. There was no reason to return now, not when he would only be returning to be punished for biting William. As it was, the young omega was injured and would take several hours to return to the orphanage. That would give him time to get back to there, gather a few belongings and take a bloody revenge on the alpha who had been taunting him. 

He slipped from the clearing without a further thought about the sobbing boy he was leaving behind. 

It was only years later, sitting in a lecture hall in Paris, that Hannibal learned about the dangers of bonding with juvenile, unpresented omegas. The lecturer droned on about curing the sexual dysmorphia of beta-omegas with the application of alpha saliva when he mentioned how this condition could, occasionally, be confused with cases of child abuse. An early puncture of the bonding gland would stop an omega from properly developing, and they would remain unpresented unless they were exposed to the saliva of the alpha that they had formed a nascent bond with. The omega would be forever trapped as a prepubescent omega, some even believing themselves to actually be betas. 

Sitting there, the youngest man in the room, he’d felt a shiver of pleasure, thinking of William, his omega, still in that Lithuanian orphanage and thinking himself a beta. His biology permanently subdued because of Hannibal’s bite. It was a powerful feeling. To have so much control over someone, despite not having touched them in years. 

Perhaps the boy’s father had finally rescued him and returned him to America. Hannibal looked down and smiled into his notes. A person on the other side of the world was living every second of their life affected by him. 

His own Ruts were practically non-existent nowadays, and he’d always supposed that as he had matured he been able to control them better. That age had given him mastery over his own body. But now he learned that it was because his body was reacting to the bonding bite. That he was, in essence, permanently bonded to the little American. He would only go into full Rut as a response to his omega’s heat. That was unsettling thought, he disliked the idea of his biology being tied to anyone; but as he would never see his omega again, it was not particularly important. Even later, when he emigrated to America, he didn’t think of his little omega. 

The niceties of American society perplexed him, although he did not let his demeanor betray that. Omegas were treated with what liberals liked to call equality. If anything, alphas were the ones who were prejudiced against for being more aggressive and vicious. Hannibal made sure to present himself as being as calm and placid as possible; the mask he wore to fit into one society could easily be changed for another. He learned to call it his musth instead of his Rut; musth implied that an alpha’s actions were driven by elevated hormones, Rut implied the alpha was an animal driven to brutality because it was time to breed. One garnered sympathy, the other fear. Hannibal saw only hypocrisy in differentiating between the two words. 

The years past and Hannibal worked as a doctor, revelling in the blood and gore that surrounded him everyday and taking a childish joy in holding between his hands the lives of his patients. As he matured, he found such entertainment became garish. Instead, he took up psychiatry and found that playing with people’s minds could be much more entertaining, and rendered him no less powerful. 

It also led to the most interesting of situations. Which was how Hannibal found himself in Jack Crawford’s office being introduced to Will Graham. At first glance the man was nothing special, his clothes too baggy and his hair unkempt.

The man reeked of beta cologne and dog to an almost offensive degree. Hannibal sniffed delicately, sampling the air to find the man’s natural scent. There, buried beneath so much dross, was a the faintest whiff of something long forgotten. His little American. His omega. 

He was still unpresented, just as the studies had said that he would be. His omega, walking around and thinking himself a beta. Hannibal drank in the sense of pure power. With one act his teenaged self had altered this man’s entire life drastically. It was beautiful. 

Finally, Hannibal got to see the omega’s face properly. There was a confused flicker across Will’s face, not quite recognition. His omega had grown up to be exquisite, despite the scruffy beard and beta stink that clung to him. Will clearly had to hide how weak his natural scent was with beta toiletries. 

Will frowned at him and glanced up to look at his face, still not quite looking into his eyes. Hannibal steeled his face to hide his amusement. His mate was utterly fascinating; nervous and fluttering gestures that Hannibal found more arousing than the usual preening displays of unbonded omegas. He could see the boy in the man before him, still shy, alone and isolated from everyone around him. 

It was deliciously ironic that the profiler of the Chesapeake Ripper was the killer’s mate. He’d never considered finding his omega before; Hannibal enjoyed his solitary existence, but now he found himself tempted to just lean over and bite Will. To push his saliva into his bonding bite until the smaller man knew who he belonged to. To bend him over and fuck the beta scent out of him. 

Will left Jack’s office angrily, and Hannibal leaned back, watching him leave, with a thoughtful expression on his face. When Will was truly his, the omega would know better than to be so rude. Although Hannibal had no desire for a completely submissive omega, the bond that would form between them would make Will more attuned to Hannibal’s desires. It would be fascinating to watch how the bond reacted with Will’s empathy. The omega would also wear much tighter clothes. The man would be beautiful in a tightly tailored suit; the clothing displaying his figure and his lack of ease in expensive clothes would show that it was his apha who had dressed him. 

“Sometimes, I think it would have been better if Will had been born an omega,” Jack said wearily. Hannibal raised a questioning eyebrow. “He’s very useful, but…”

Hannibal heard the words that Jack did not say; Will would be more manageable if he were easier to manipulate. For all the politeness and semantics of American society, the casual sexism was still there for all to see.

“I believe I maybe of some assistance,” Hannibal schooled his face to be the picture of professionalism and thought about how he would arrange his next kill. This one would be just for Will, a courting gift really. It didn’t occur to Hannibal to not claim his omega, it was only a question of how he would go about it.

But, later, he found himself too distracted to hunt and instead absorbed himself with the slow cooking of a cyclist who had pedaled into his car and scratched the paintwork. The man’s braised belly would make wonderful rillettes. Even in the sanctity of his kitchen, he could not put Will entirely from his mind. He would feed Will, would fill his stomach with human flesh just as surely as he would eventually fill him with children. 

He doubted Will had ever taken an alpha to his bed; this was a man who didn’t like to make eye contact, sex with an alpha, even flirting with an alpha, would have been too overwhelming for him. Perhaps Will was gay; beta-omega pairings were not uncommon, especially in this modern age when relationships where procreation was impossible were less frowned upon than they had been in the past. Of course, Will would have assumed he was the beta partner. Would he have been charmed by the gentle submissiveness of another omega? Would he have assumed that his own desire to be filled and fucked was just him empathising with his omega partner?

Of course, even if that were true, it didn’t matter anymore. Will would learn to love what he would soon become; what Hannibal would make him into.

Hannibal adjusted himself, his cock hardening as he imagined his Will naked and nubile, sweaty and wanton. The only question that remained was how he would take his Will.


	2. Chapter 2

“Will? I’ve brought you breakfast.”

“Dr Lecter?” the omega stared at him in confusion. He had answered the door wearing only the boxers that he’d slept in. Hannibal admired the delicate fragility of his body, the flustered body language as the man clearly wondered why such a powerful alpha had done such a thing for a lowly beta. 

“Perhaps you would prefer to get dressed before you eat?”

Will gulped heavily and bared his neck in such a gesture of unadulterated submission that Hannibal nearly threw the food he’d brought to the ground, wanting nothing more than take his omega right now. 

“Yeah. The kitchen’s through there, if you…” Will trailed off before bolting upstairs to get dressed. Hannibal repressed his alpha urge to give chase to his omega and wondered if the man’s social awkwardness stemmed from the confusion of his gender; the omegan need to submit warring with the betan need to be as unobtrusive as possible. 

The kitchen was foul, barely clean despite the obvious lack of use. Dogs scattered before him. Clearly the omegan tendency to look after the home had never developed in Will; although the omegan maternal urge had been subverted into caring for stray animals. Hannibal unpacked the breakfast he had brought for Will and sat at the kitchen table, waiting patiently. A few dogs eyed him curiously. Hannibal did not want them interfering with what he was about to do and made sure that, when Will finally joined him, all the dogs were safely shut out of the kitchen. 

Will picked at the protein scramble in front of him. The drunk accountant who had bumped into him in the street made an excellent sausage. The man had accomplished far more in death than he had in life; feeding and nourishing Hannibal’s mate was by far the best thing the man had ever done. 

“Do you think that we might have met before, Will? Forgive me, but there is something very familiar about you.”

“Um, no. I mean, I think I’d remember you, Dr Lecter.”

Hannibal sat back, satisfied that Will was telling the truth. That would certainly make his plan easier. He had no intention of admitting that he had bitten a juvenile omega; it was a tarnish his carefully maintained, spotless reputation did not need. 

“Did you sleep well last night, Will?”

Will laughed bitterly and gave a slight shrug. 

“No.”

The man did look exhausted; there were bags under his eyes and he smelled of stale sweat. He would be very easy to overpower.

“Have you ever considered that there may be a physiological reason for that?”

“No,” Will’s voice was sullen. 

“Are you aware that your scent is faintly omegan?”

Will stiffened, sensing danger even though the question could easily be interpreted as merely medical curiosity. 

“No.”

Hannibal hummed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the kitchen table; he was the picture of a doctor trying to diagnose his patient. His clever mate was not deceived; Will edged backwards in his chair. Scared, but not scared enough to do anything that might lead to a confrontation with an alpha. 

“It is, dear Will.”

“Look, um, thanks for bringing breakfast. I’ll come by your office, and, um -” Will stood slowly, backing away from his alpha with his hands held up in supplication. It was almost appeasing enough to make Hannibal forgive him for not eating more of the food he’d brought him. 

“Are you aware,” Hannibal began, noting happily that Will respectfully slid back into his seat to hear what he had to say, “That sexual dysmorphia can lead to many of the symptoms that you are experiencing?”

Will pursed his lips, still unwilling to force a confrontation, but clearly eager for Hannibal to leave. 

“I don’t have sexual dysmorphia.”

“No? Are you sure? Have you ever been tested? There is a simple way to know for sure. The application of alpha saliva would start to cure you immediately.”

Will’s eyes opened very wide and shivered, his slender arms hugging himself. Hannibal supposed that the omega was so used to the enemy being inside his head that he had no idea how to deal with someone actually threatening him. It was of no matter. After today Hannibal would make sure his omega was never threatened again. Just as before, in the orphanage, Hannibal would protect him from his tormentors but, as before, there would be a price to pay.

“But, but, but if I did have sexual dysmorphia then...then by cure you mean, I’d start becoming an omega? And bonding to the alpha who bit me?”

Hannibal inclined his head. Will gave him a panicked look, his eyes darting up to meet Hannibal’s gaze for a brief second before he tried to bolt. Will’s chair was pushed backwards, falling to the floor as Will turned to try and flee. Hannibal was upon him before the chair had even hit the ground. He swiped Will’s legs out from under him, toppling him over. Hannibal held on to him so that he didn’t fall straight to the ground. 

“Oh, Will. It is such a shame that you can’t enjoy this. You were born to be an omega, you have simply been avoiding it.”

He twisted him around and lowered him down until Will was lying with his back on the floor and Hannibal’s body was covering him securely. Will was as weak as Hannibal had suspected he would be; his wrists delicate as Hannibal pinned them in one large hand. Despite their proximity, Will’s eyes were squeezed shut. Hannibal backhanded him, watching with delight as Will’s eyelids fluttered open. His omega should know exactly who was doing this to him. 

“I don’t want this, I don’t want this. Stop!” Will cried out as Hannibal lowered his head to Will’s neck. He kissed the shell of Will’s ear. 

“Do you believe that betas are better than omegas, Will? Do you think there is anything wrong with becoming an omega? I had hoped that you would be above such sexism,” he whispered into his mate’s ear. 

“I’m a beta! I don’t want to be an omega. I don’t want you to do this!”

Hannibal gave a sad, exaggerated sigh and tore at Will’s shirt to expose the skin he had bitten all those years ago.

It was strange that Will knew with such certainty that he would turn into an omega. If he had been a regular beta then an alpha’s saliva would not affect him. There was a mark there, on his shoulder, although it was so faint that Hannibal wouldn’t have thought it was a bonding bite if he hadn’t been the one to put it there. 

“You’ve always been an omega, Will, I’m just helping you to live up to your full potential.”

He nuzzled Will’s neck, although he could not savour his mate’s scent; the omega stank of fear, souring his natural scent in a way that was surprisingly unpleasant. In the background, he could hear the whining of the dogs. They had not proved to be much protection for Will and he would certainly not allow them in his house. 

_”Stop, stop, stop, stop,”_ Will panted, each word a whispered gasp. Even now he was nervous of angering his alpha; of crying out too loudly.

The first bite to Will’s neck filled Hannibal’s mouth with blood. It was delicious; sweet and innocent and yet there was a slight bitterness in it too. Something that reminded Hannibal of the taste of his own blood. It was more refined than the last time he’d tasted Will, like a fine wine that had matured and gained depth and intensity. He wanted to suck more of it, to take it into himself until Will was completely drained. But that would have to wait. For now he would have to be satisfied with just a taste. He swallowed the blood in his mouth and then pushed his saliva into the wound on Will’s neck.

Beneath him, Will let out a startled whimper. Perhaps he had not truly believed that Hannibal would do this. Perhaps he had been hoping for a reprieve. He should have known better. His empathy had failed him. 

Hannibal pulled back and eyed the wound clinically. As a supposed bonding bite, it was exceptionally neat. He’d patched up his fair share of omegan throats ripped to shreds by overenthusiastic bonding bites, but really, with a little self-control, there was no need for such dramatics. 

Will scent was changing already. The faint undercurrent of omega was growing stronger. Hannibal smiled and leaned in to give Will more of his saliva. The open wound was absorbing his saliva, accepting it greedily as if Will’s body was desperate for it and begging him for more. The omega struggled feebly, trying to move away, but the movement only served to expose his neck more. His struggle was so beautifully eloquent, it was almost a shame that Will’s transformation would be complete in just a few short hours. 

Hannibal drew his hand through the unruly hair on Will’s head, gripping it to pull his head so that it was easier for Hannibal to access his bitemark. He had thought of making his omega cut his hair, but it seemed it did have a purpose after all. Perhaps he would only ask that Will styled his hair with more care in the future. Although, Hannibal thought as his cheek rubbed against Will’s stubble, the beard would definitely have to be got rid of. 

Will’s body went strangely limp and Hannibal knew that there was no turning back. The man would never be a beta again. The omegan bonding gland was still there, beneath the skin, but it was almost as small as it had been when Will was a child. Of course, even with the transformation, that gland would never grow any larger. It had already served its purpose and irrevocably bonded Will to Hannibal, even if the little omega wasn’t aware of it yet. 

“Dr Lecter?” Will queried, his voice thin and weak. Hannibal helped him to his feet, but the man stumbled awkwardly. He was too disoriented to try and escape, although it was doubtful that he would even attempt it. Already he seemed more docile, the urge to please his mate affecting him. 

“I think, at this stage in our relationship, you may call me Hannibal, Will.”

Will nodded dumbly. 

“I, I feel...Did you do this before?” Will’s question was muffled, his head buried in Hannibal’s chest. “I remember...pain”

“I’ve never bitten another omega, Will, but now it’s time you went home.”

“Home?”

“Come, Will. We should leave.”

He was half carrying and half dragging the omega, but the man was so light that it was not a problem. When he opened the kitchen door, the dogs watched him, but none of them tried to attack. A few barked in confusion, but they all stayed back. 

Will slumped down, his body shutting down and slipping into unconsciousness as Hannibal’s saliva changed him. He lifted the omega into his arms, one arm beneath his knees and one under his arms. Will’s head rolled backwards so that Hannibal had a clear view of the new bonding mark. It was a work of art. Of course, it wasn’t really a scar of the bite that had originally bonded them, but Will need never know that. This would be the scar that declared to the world that Will Graham was _his_. Hannibal was tempted to bit him again, to dig his teeth further into Will’s flesh, to brand him.

But now was not the time for that. He promised himself that he would indulge himself later, once Will was home then he could spend hours examining his mate’s neck. For now, he made sure Will was safe in his car and went in search of Will’s keys so that he could secure the house. Of course, it would have to be sold. His mate would hardly need a second home, or a place to escape from his alpha. 

Will slept peacefully on the ride home, as if his body had accepted what was happening to it. The slowly strengthening scent of omega filled Hannibal’s car. He could smell himself already in Will’s scent, as Will’s body remembered who its alpha was, even though it had been so many years. 

He had been concerned that a bond formed in childhood, on such an undeveloped bonding gland would produce only a weak bond; Hannibal was relieved that was not the case. He had already been mentally planning the necessary steps to form a stronger bond; the first of which would have been a glandular transplant. A highly illegal, and dangerous, surgery that would have required the death of an unbonded omega to provide a new gland, and the surgery itself would have been a great risk to Will. Nevertheless, there was no point having an omega if it did not smell of its alpha.

As soon as his body was able, it was likely that Will would go into heat as he tried to make up for so many sterile years. Hannibal would have to make sure that he was prepared. 

Will was light as Hannibal carried him upstairs to his bedroom. Will’s natural scent was still weaker than it should be, but while he waited for Will to present fully he could remove some of the beta stink that Will insisted on washing himself with. 

The hideous checked shirt, that Will had so casually thrown on earlier, was easily removed. His pants were slightly more awkward to take off, but Hannibal was long experienced in removing clothes from unconscious bodies. Will was still wearing the same boxers that he’d had on when he’d opened his front door to Hannibal.

Hannibal took a moment to admire his mate’s naked body before leaving him to run a bath. Really, here was the answer to his earlier question. It was no wonder that Will had been so ready to believe that he suffered from sexual dysmorphia. His cock was small and clearly vestigial. His testicles didn’t raise when they were exposed to the cool air, indicating that his cremaster muscle didn’t function; there was no need for his body to regulate the temperature of his testicles when he could not produce spermatozoa. 

Will was so delightfully fragile in his arms. There was nothing that Hannibal could not do to him. Will’s dark hair curled and contrasted delightfully against the pallor of his skin. He was a Ganymede, made to serve and Hannibal his long awaited master. 

It took all of his self control to only wash Will, he wanted to do so much more; but that would have to wait until the right time, until Will had fully presented as an omega. Instead, he dried Will off and gently tucked the naked man into his bed, before leaving him to cook the last proper meal that he would be able to eat for the next few days. Once Will’s heat struck, he would be far too occupied to bother with food. 

He’d only just finished eating when he heard Will stumbling around upstairs. The omega was trying to get away; it was a shame that his hormones were still so unchanged that he was still capable of doing something that might anger his alpha. Hannibal waited patiently until Will, still naked, had got to the bottom of the stairs and was hobbling to the front door. The chemicals flooding his body were affecting his motor controls. It would have been better if he’d stayed in bed, but at least this gave Hannibal the opportunity to watch his mate in motion. There was a coltish grace to the omega as he stood unsteadily on delicate, alabaster legs. His dark pubic hair framed the mouthful that was his cock delightfully as it bounced with each step that Will took. 

“Will? Where are you going?”

The omega jumped, his reactions sluggish and slow. 

“I..home...my car, I have to, to drive. I have to get home.”

“But you are home, dear Will.”

Will looked around in confusion, as if it were possible that he had confused the Wolf Trap house with Hannibal’s home. 

“Is it?”

“Yes. Let me help you back to bed.”

Will nodded vaguely and put his arms out for Hannibal to lead him back up the stairs. When he had maneuvered Will onto the bed, Hannibal lay down beside him. Will was more biddable than before, the submissiveness of his gender was becoming more apparent. 

The new bonding mark had begun to darken and bruise. Hannibal put his mouth to it and sucked experimentally. Will’s sweet blood filled his mouth but Hannibal could still taste himself there. That slight bitterness was becoming stronger and meshing more completely with Will’s blood as the adult bond took hold. It was proof that their bond was strong and it was delicious. Hannibal swallowed back another mouthful. Now was not the time to be greedy. He had the rest of Will’s life to sample his blood and Will needed to keep his strength up. Hannibal wanted him to be at least semi-conscious when he claimed him for the first time. 

Hannibal bit down into his mate’s neck, surprised that the omega under him screamed and tried to buck him off. The alpha easily held him in place. It would take months for the last of Will’s beta musculature to atrophy and leave him as weak as normal omegas, but in the meantime he was still no match for an alphas strength. 

“Please,” Will whimpered, “I can’t -” he broke off with a gasp as he squirmed under Hannibal. Whatever Will Graham had been about to beg for was lost. His transformation to full adult omega was complete and his heat had struck. 

The change was so sudden that it took even Hannibal by surprise. The air became almost instantly thick with the smell of omegan lust and need. Will’s legs parted and thrust his pelvis up, his small cock already hard. 

This was not how things should be. Something burned in Hannibal, angry and deep and long forgotten. His mate’s heat was forcing him into Rut and he had to struggle to control it. He would not let his hormones dictate his actions, and he would not let his omega decide how he was claimed. That right belonged to Hannibal.

Will whined and tried to rub his little cock against Hannibal again.

“Hush, little omega,” Hannibal whispered into his mate’s ear. “Is this how omegas beg? Show your mate that you want him. Beg your mate for his cock. _Beg me._ ”

Hannibal pulled away, standing up so that he could rip his clothes off. He was usually so careful but his mind was on fire. He wanted to feel his omega under him but he would not give in. Not when he was so curious to see what his new mate would do.

Will rolled up onto his hands and knees and presented himself to Hannibal. His little red hole was already loose and blinking at Hannibal. The new position made the lube that Will was beginning to produce dribble slowly out of his hole. Hannibal’s eyes fixed on one heavy droplet that trailed slowly out of Will and dripped onto his pale thigh. 

He was salivating just looking at it. He knew it would taste more delicious than anything that came out of his kitchen but Hannibal restrained himself. The scent of his mate was everywhere, it made his brain swim but he wanted to see Will beg before he would touch his mate again.

“Please, Doctor L - Hannibal,” Will voice sounded broken as he pushed his ass higher. “Please, I need..”

It was a pitiful attempt at lordosis, but as Will had only minutes worth of experience at being an omega, Hannibal was willing to overlook such a poor first attempt. He put a hand on Will’s neck and pushed his face down into the mattress to correct his form. 

Hannibal’s cock ached like it had during his first Rut. There was little point in drawing this out but still he hesitated. He’d never been particularly interested in sex before, the few beta lovers that he’d taken had been purely for appearances sake. He’d never felt his knot before; it only responded to an omega’s body. 

With one final glance at Will’s quivering hole, Hannibal lined himself and pushed himself into his mate. 

With one great thrust his cock was fully sheathed in his omega’s hot wetness. It was so deliciously tight. Will bucked, his head tilting back as he let out a scream that was part agony, part pleasure. He had, Hannibal decided proudly, probably been a virgin. 

“Too much, too much! Slow down!” Will screamed, but those were not his decisions to make. Hannibal slapped his ass cheek, watching in delight as the taut flesh jiggled and then reddened. 

Hannibal pulled out slowly and his mate let out a sigh that sounded far too close to relief. He shoved his cock back into that welcoming heat and in the background he heard the omega give a loud, wanton moan. He knew what was best for his mate. 

This was pure power, heady and rightfully his as he pounded into his omega. His hips surged forward again and again, forcing his cock deeper. No one else would ever touch his mate, he’d marked Will Graham indelibly as belonging to him and now the whole world would know it. 

Hannibal’s rhythm didn’t falter as he leaned over his mate and bit into the back of his neck. He wanted to mark every inch of his body. He wanted to punish him with his cock. Will Graham deserved it, he should have recognised his alpha from the beginning. He should have sought him out, but Hannibal would make sure that justice was served. 

Beneath him, Will let out a stream of inarticulate mewls. His omega was still begging him for more. His knot was swelling, catching on his mate’s rim each time he pushed into him. He couldn’t last much longer. Hannibal bit down harder, his mouth filling once again with Will’s blood. And it was too much. 

He gave a deep groan, a noise so primal that it startled even him, and came, buried deep in his omega. He was pouring himself into his mate, his knot was swollen and he could do nothing as his balls emptied themselves into his omega.

His panted breaths sounded laboured and he rested his sweaty forehead on the back of Will’s head. He hadn’t even noticed it before, but now his mind felt clearer and he could smell the faint, sweet smell of omega come. He hadn’t even noticed Will’s orgasm. 

He tried to gently move his hips, but he was locked inside his mate. It was a disconcerting feeling, a loss of control that he had thought that he would hate, but now he found he rather liked the idea that his mate would be forced to remain under him, full of his come, until Hannibal released him. 

“Hannibal?” Will’s voice sounded softer than before; although he couldn’t be sure if that was because his gender had changed, or the intimate circumstances. “Can you roll over? I can’t breathe.”

Hannibal briefly considered refusing, but decided against it. For now, he would let his mate think he had some modicum of control of this relationship. 

“Of course, dear Will,” Hannibal rolled them over and wrapped his arms around his mate. Will’s internal walls gently caressed his cock as they moved. This would only be a brief respite. Will’s heat would last for days yet and Hannibal would fuck him through it. 

His cock softened slowly and fell out of Will’s ass. It felt disappointingly cold to be outside of his mate, but he was a patient man. It shouldn’t be long before Will was begging him for more.

Will turned quickly to face him; he hadn’t expected his omega to want to kiss him, but he would certainly allow it. Will’s beautiful face was twisted into a frown though.

“It’s you. You, you were the one who bit me, in the woods that day. …” Will stuttered before shutting his mouth with a snap. Hannibal eyed him carefully. “They said you killed that other alpha before you left...That wasn’t the last time you killed, was it?”

Will turned his face away, as if he wanted to stop talking but couldn’t help the words spilling from his pretty mouth.

“You’ve killed again, after you left the orphanage.”

Suddenly Will launched himself onto Hannibal, fists batting at his chest as uselessly as that day, so long ago, that they had first bonded. Hannibal gripped his wrists easily and held him still. Will writhed, his face a picture of misery. Such agony should be painted and preserved forever. Hannibal traced a finger along Will’s wrinkled eyebrows. One day he would sketch the passion of Will Graham and it would be glorious, although probably unsuitable to be displayed on the wall. 

Hannibal had no wish to kill his mate; even though they had been apart for so long, Hannibal rather like the idea of possessing someone so utterly. Eventually, the empath would discover that he was the Ripper and when that time came, if he wasn’t completely sure of his mate, then he would have to die. It would be a shame, but it could not be helped.

“You left me there! You could have taken me with you! I was all alone, and I’ve been alone ever since and it’s all your fault!”

Hannibal hid his surprise and pulled Will flush against his body. 

“Yes,” Hannibal purred into his mate’s ear, ”But I promise you, you will not be alone again. I will be with you for the rest of your life.”

Will relaxed into him and kissed his cheek shyly as if Hannibal had made some romantic declaration. 

Hannibal let himself smile, his contentment bubbling forth so that it could be seen on his mask. He had so much to look forward; Will was proving to be a beautifully malleable mate, he could be made into anything. Hannibal’s arms clutched his newest possession tighter; Will was going to be _fascinating._

* * *

“What did you do to him?”

“He was suffering from a medical condition, which I was fortunate enough to be able to diagnose.”

“Diagnose?” Jack snorted, “I doubt that, I wonder what the State psychiatry board would think of all this.”

“And I wonder if Will would be willing to work for the man who got his alpha’s licence revoked.”

Hannibal picked at the sleeve of his jacket as if there was a piece of lint there.

“If I were unemployed, I would prefer that my omega also stopped working, that way we could spend more time together. However, if you chose to drop this then I would be happy to let Will continue working for the FBI. Indeed, I would prefer to accompany him to crime scenes so that I could help him focus.”

Jack grunted and looked around the room as he considered Hannibal’s words. His eyes passed unseeingly over the worn copy of Larousse Gastronomique that Hannibal used for so many of his recipes. Finally, the man sighed and put out his hand.

“I expect results,” Jack said, his voice loud, deep and demanding respect. Hannibal laughed to himself; it was the braying of a defeated alpha trying to save face. Hannibal shook his hand and wondered how soon he could have Jack Crawford for supper.


End file.
